Heat
by biy-blui
Summary: Alternate Universe Blaine Anderson has a bad boy reputation, a busty girlfriend,- and a little bit of secret heated admiration towards his sweater-loving best friend: Kurt Hummel. Heat always breaks the barrier. This is what happens when an irresistible Anderson does it. Blaine/Kurt, Blurt. Character development. Soon to be M.
1. Chapter 1

*Alternate Universe, characters are (obviously, Blaine's a badboy) a little OOC- but only in the following ways, Blaine is two years older, mantaining a badboy rep (he's kept his super-sweet, encouring side), and has grown a little taller than Kurt (; just because I like my men tall. Kurt is still fashionable, insecure, and lonely- but more mature.*

*Disclaimer: Glee doesn't belong to me. I can't sing or dance.

His hand groped through his front pocket, searching for the paper package that accompanied Blaine Anderson anywhere and everywhere he ventured. And by everywhere, I meant it. Even my own eyes have seen the smoke that sifts through the cracks of the bathroom door on Sunday afternoons. That's when I visit Blaine. He isn't a church-going man; I think he believes he's lost his right to believe. I know how they say that everyone has a right to believe in something, but Blaine doesn't have anything- doesn't want anything so he can never lose it. He says everyone judges him as soon as they open their eyes in front of him, and that's why he has nothing. And I tell him they don't, just to make him feel better. It's a small town, and knowing someone's mistakes, their life- It's easy to judge him, stereotype him. I think that's what makes it so much fun; to prove yourself wrong when you get to know him.

When he finally gets his hand under the wearing fabric, he pulls the cigarette pack forth and perks it between his front teeth. The main thing about Blaine that irks me is when he lights his first cigarette. He does this thing, pulls the cancer stick out with a quick maneuver of lips and teeth, his face relaxes but then he takes a huge swig- blows it out in one big breath. Then he turns to me and grins in that wolfish way; the one that splits his face and causes dimples right above his cheek line, and makes you forget that he was polluting your breathing air. He's one of those people- While I could spend hours working on my appearance and look absolutely the same, he could do everything that isn't good for him, but still have his natural good looks. It's mostly his smile, it's the big bait and catch. It runs across his face but never reaches his eyes. He has flat teeth with imperfect sides, but they aren't all yellow and missing like an anti-smoking ad.

"Could ya' roll up your window? It's a little fucking chilly."

That's the other thing about Blaine. His voice is all slurred with what was a high-class accent that he's tried desperately to camouflage with cussing- it should be easy- it hasn't been reinforced in about 11 years. Before his mother ran off to the intercity bridge to commit suicide they had been in the ranks of riches. He sold the house on the hill that she had left him last year. When your mother disappears at seven there isn't much you can do about the child safety locks on the screen door, or the horrible memories left over. So you dispose of them. He's never one to complain though. Like I said, he believes he's never lost anything. His mother wasn't much of ... well, a mother. Neither is that damned father of his. We don't talk about that much. He had inherited enough to stay in a classy all-boys boarding school throughout high school. Nothing was left to his father. He hasn't touched a penny since his emancipation and Blaine's purchase of a fully furnished trailer.

"Hey you, I know ya' like to think, but could you at least try to pretend I'm here?"

"I can't pretend you're here if you're here, Blaine. It doesn't work that way."

Then he chuckled, in that odd way that he does. It isn't really a laugh, because you can't really hear it. It could easily be mistaken as a cough or a mutter under your breath but I figure it's always better to think you made a friend laugh. If I could call him that, I mean. I'm not sure what we are. For the past three years, my heart-attack survivor father attends his weird physical training classes while I sit here with Blaine, wondering about him and observing him.

He's kind of like a guinea pig to me. And I'm like the scientist who put glass on either side of his wheel, so he'd always have to run, and I could always observe. That's the thing I notice about him. The less you open up to him, the more he lets out about himself, like he's trying to cut a deal of some sort. There isn't much to me anyway -besides insecurities and an overdose of femininity, I'm scared he'll realize that.

"So, I know you don't want to go home and be stuck in my house all day, so where is it that you want to go?"

I wasn't a fan of public places, in actuality. Especially in this town, where touching a door railing might leave you susceptible to diseases. "Where would you like to go?"

To be honest, I really loved being stuck in Blaine's house, not really a house, more of a trailer. It smells like him though, and I really like how he smells. Kind of like a fire that just went out, but it's really sweet too-In that sickening sort of way. You can't take too much in. Too much Blaine isn't good for anyone. But it sure as hell makes you feel a whole lot better.

"I was thinking we could hit a couple pawn shops on the way to my place. See if we could find a new cd."

"As long as you roll down the windows, I think that sounds nice." I wasn't going to die of heat exhaustion, and I knew the heat went straight to my cheeks.

"Negotiating now, are we?"

"It's a hobby of mine, apparently."

You have to negotiate with Blaine though. Anderson's know what they want, and when they want it, you have to trick them out of it.

"What do you want to listen to?"

"I don't really listen to anything, you can pick." That wasn't accurate, I really did listen to quite a bit of music- mostly Broadway classics, and had a Chicago soundtrack with plenty of wear and tear. That was beyond embarrassing.

"Alright."

Then he picks out the same worn cd he does every time. He starts to do that thing, where he sings under his breath, and you really want him to sing louder, but you know he won't ever do it and you don't want to ask. Then I turn around, and I guess he doesn't expect me to ever look at him because he looks like he was caught off guard big time.

And that's when you realize that that one guy with the dark hair and the bad reputation has really nice eyes, especially when they're all shocked and wide because you caught him staring at you. Then I realize I really want to turn around before he notices any flaws of mine. I liked to watch Blaine, but that's because everything he did seemed perfect. I wanted no audience of him, I was dull.

Then his cell rings, and I cringe at the way he answers it.

"Hey babe, I missed you."

The girl on the receiving end of that phone call would be who I'd like to call, 'Mrs. I've had a lot of experience stuffing my bra with rocks and even more sex partners'! She's the kind of girl I'd never imagine Blaine with. I realize he'd been stuck in an all male school, but I almost expected him to date one of the nice girls that I knew from choir. Maybe I thought I knew him more than I did… It seemed like a shallow choice, Anna. She had cement breasts, long legs, overpowering curly white hair, and despite the fact that her skin is of unnatural coloring- I still believe that this is what guys considered "hot." I'd never understand.

"Oh, I'm taking Kurt out to the pawn shop." I heard incessantly high pitched mumbling on the other side of the line. "Really? Well if you're about to head that way I guess we can meet there." Wonderful, it had been this way for weeks- I come over to basically be babysat as usual, but now she tagged along to make me a permanent fixture of wallpaper to Blaine. I was starting to wonder if he was bored with me, why else would we need a third party every time I was over?

" love you too."

That's the part about their phone conversations I hated most.

Then his phone clicked shut and I turned my face away, trying to conceal everything. I wasn't sure what it was I was feeling, but I didn't want him to find out before me.

"Hey, Anna is coming too. Is that alright?"

"She's your girlfriend. Unless I repel her with my repulsive teen body odor caused by your lack of AC, there's no way I can keep her away." Was that blunt? Oh it was blunt. My over obsessive need to wear sweaters combined with the heat must be getting to me.

"C'mon, Kurt, she isn't bad at all."

Every time he says this, I just want to tell him how we can't turn a corner with some guy I've never seen her talk to grab her ass and wonder how that's okay. But he just smiles it away, like she can do no wrong. It's hard to tell if he even cares lately.

"She isn't, I just can't stand her voice." I realized I didn't have the deepest voice, especially compared to the grit of Blaine's, but I generally talked less and compensated with wit and intelligence. Which she lacked… severely.

"I think it's... I don't know… Rather..."

"Annoying? I know."

"Attractive. She's got a cute needy voice."

"That makes you sound like a pedophile."

Then he blinked, and gave another laugh before pulling into the drive of 'Charlie's Pawn". He turned off the ignition, pulling the keys out and popping the door open with his foot before hopping onto the concrete with his usual grace. His dark hair haloed around his head, face relaxed once again. Genetically perfect. My holy vision is blind sighted when a pair of large breasts comes into view, the arms sprouting from them wrapping tightly around the Anderson boy. So I wait, his truck being too high for my uncoordinated legs to get out of by themselves, even at sixteen. I felt like an awkward bird, wishing I had the grace of Blaine.

After a while I get tired of waiting and turn to look out the window to see what's taking him so long. I seriously only needed him to pull out the bottom panel. Not surprisingly at all, he was sucking face with his future hunch back girlfriend. The weird thing is that my cheeks prickle this time- Because he isn't taking his eyes off me. And he has that curl in the side of his lip, like he's smiling.

I guess he just had to rub the fact I didn't like his illiterate girlfriend in my face- here I was thinking he was a gentleman. So I slowly tried to figure out how to get out of his giant of a car to get my mind of the dumb teen. As gracefully as usual-which isn't much at all- I plunged to the ground, skinning my knee against the pavement.

"Shit! Kurt!"

And here comes mister jackass skidding around the corner like I broke my neck or something. I stood and pointed at my knee,

"If I bleed to death it's all your fault for not helping me out of the car." I was beyond cranky today, I wished I had a ziplock for my mouth. What was going on with me?

Realizing the minor injury, Blaine got this look on his face; like he was still concerned but insulted that I would poke fun at his kind gesture. But I didn't care; he should have known not to mess with me like that in the first place. If he'd helped me out of the truck this wouldn't have happened. For some reason, I never felt embarrassed over the situation, just relieved that I had made him worry.

"Come on, Porcelain. You should be able to get out of the car by yourself, don't go blaming Blaine-"

I gave Ms. Tits this God-awful 'I'm bored with you already' glare, one that made her shut her bright red lips and huff. Only people with brains are allowed to argue with me. She huffed and tugged on Blaine's arm. I followed, knee stinging and sticking to my pants leg.

Charlie's Pawn smells like cabbage, Just like Charlie himself. He's an oddball who likes to share his life stories and doesn't like to shave his over grown 'goatee'- I don't know if you could call a braid dangling from your chin a goatee. He gives good deals though, and that's all that matters to Blaine. He says he never wants to get into the habit of blowing money he didn't earn.

I tend to avoid Charlie, he has a problem with calling me "Miss" instead of "Mister" and whenever I correct him he'd tell me that I was too pretty to be a boy, and I was probably some queer. I don't listen to 'fancy goatee' Charlie though.

I stared into one of the swan mirrors against the wall. I wonder how he got the image of me being any where near girlish; his idea of the perfect woman would be Anna, but that's every guy's image of the perfect girl. Her hair was straightened today and pulled into a high ponytail that brushed her tan shoulders. She had on this bright yellow tube top which I guess she mistook as a dress because she wasn't wearing any pants. Well if I didn't look like a woman, I sure was starting to sound like a jealous one

That's when I realized I really didn't like Charlie either- The way her and him talked bugged me in a way- Like they had much more than they should going on. But Charlie was at least a few generations older than her, so I was hoping this town wasn't that insane… but Anna doesn't seem to care which guy she's with. As long as he's either attractive or has enough money to cover her shopping sprees. I think that Blaine is her attractive boyfriend, while the others are the one who actually have money that they're willing to spend. I'm surprised he's lasted so long.

Charlie leans over, and whispers something into her ear, it makes her giggle quietly under her manicured hand. This is when I decide to smile it off like Blaine does, but realize there isn't anything to smile about and frown it off instead. Then Anna walks away from the cashier and over to Blaine, and I wonder if her thong accidentally ate her conscience. Anna sniffs in that snooty little way she does when she suddenly magically realizes this shack isn't a brand name store. Not even a store at all but little thrown away shirts, cameras, fender guitars, and 90's films. Blaine stares at her in an apologetic way, but he shouldn't because he was taking me out and not Ms. Tits.

So I kind of laugh to myself and walk away. I really wish I hadn't because Blaine isn't as touchy feely with Anna when I'm around. Like I totally repulse him and he can't do anything near me. I probably do, he probably realizes Anna is the hot and I'm the not whenever she shows up.

And then I wonder if it's weird to think that way, since he shouldn't be thinking I'm anywhere near cute to begin with, 'cause we're boys and all and he thinks like one.

This whole time the little couple had been holding hands and casting looks over the movie section that didn't mean anything at all because you could tell they weren't really looking.

This whole time I've been shuffling away, watching a hoody sit behind the racks. I'd recently tried growing out of my sweater vests and jackets phase- mostly because my allowance had stooped to five dollars a month after my dad bought Bo-flex. As long as he was healthy.

"Ooh! That's adorable! Blaine, Look at that cute little hoody!" Anna cooed. The first thing Blaine did was reluctantly ask her if she wanted it of course, but Anna shook her head and looked at me.

"Try it on Kurt; you can stick it over your shirt if you take your sweater off." So I pulled at the sleeves of my sweater hesitantly, shirt riding up a hitch. Blaine's heavy stare was making me uncomfortable. His t-shirt was underneath. Some top-fourties band, but I'd never listened to them, just a hand me down of Blaine's that smelt like him for a good week without washing. I was embarrassed that he'd caught me in it yet again. Besides my dad, he's the only person I've really ever cared to be around much. That wasn't true… he was the first one to care about being around me much.

"It looks good on you! It's a little big but I could take it in for you. I wish I had your figure." Anna threw in with a wink, and I felt slightly insulted- and then I realized I probably should tell her I didn't have the money for it. So I did, because I'm kind of blunt sometimes.

"I don't have any money-"

"I'll get it for you, as long as you promise to wear it."

Well it was clothes, what else would I do with it? Tie it to my pink toe and do a jig? This is when I question if I should be nicer to Anna, accept their relationship. That's right. I'm just being protective of Blaine. Then I feel ashamed of myself because I know Anna doesn't have a good personality, I just really want that sweater.

"I promise." I said, a little too eagerly then I wished I could take it back when Anna's eyes got all glittery and she rushed up to Charlie to pay.

"Thanks for being nice to her." Blaine said, like I didn't really want the hoody or something.

"I really did want it." In no way was I attempting to be nice.

"That's the thing about Anna; she's great at picking up on things. Woman's intuition."

I flinched, jealousy feeling undeserved. She's a woman. That's why Blaine was interested in her.

"You could have just of easily known. You don't pay attention."

"C'mon, Kurt, we've been here tons of times and you never said once that you liked that hoody."

"I didn't say I liked it this time either but Anna picked up on it awful quick." I muttered, strangely defensive. I needed to shut my mouth.

"Kurt. Don't go and use that tone on me." Blaine chided, sounding an awful lot more like an actual babysitter than anyone. I was embarrassed to be reminded that I was a child to him.

"I'm not using that tone on you." Very mature.

"Well, I think I would have noticed."

I was getting frustrated now, and all the sudden something popped out of my mouth that never should have.

"You never pay attention to me."

And that was when Blaine looked at me, I mean, **really** looked at me. It seemed like he was about to say something but Anna came running up, handing me the bag. It didn't matter though. I didn't want a heart warming conversation in the middle of a pawn shop anyway. Sooner more than later he'd forget that I had ever said it anyway.

"Thanks, Anna. You didn't have to."

"No, no. I know that we've had some tense moments but let's call this a truce." She smiled, sticking out her hand.

I wondered if I shouldn't have thought all those bad things about her, or verbally attacked her in my mind, then I decided that I probably have some kind of issue with judging people. Then I remember the little chat between her and Charlie and noticed it's tearing my throat out of my neck. I wanted to tell Blaine, but think that he probably wouldn't even care.

Then Anna drops her hand as Blaine walks away and winks at me, giving a bitchy little eyebrow raise and turning around.

I finally figure it out that she's trying to pay me off. She doesn't like me at all, trying to get me to like her because she knows I heard what Charlie said. Then I feel like an idiot for even thinking about not thinking bad of her. Blaine tells me to 'Come along now' and I'm rushing behind them, constantly tugging at the sleeves of my soon to be abandoned hoody because I got a new one that I like a whole lot more. I wonder if that's how Blaine feels about Anna. He met me a month before her. But that was three years ago and the glasses on my face were the size of Kentucky, and I was shorter than the average munchkin.

I haven't changed much in the height arena. I'm plain, pasty pale, and short. I just don't get tan. It doesn't work even if I try. Maybe If I had started sports or something when I was attending actual school (instead of online AP classes) I would have learned to be masculine. I mean, I wanted to join track, I really did. That's not what I'm meant for though. I like to write. So I decided, I'd write about Blaine.

I watch Blaine ask Anna if she wants to go out to eat with me and him, but she declines, saying she'd promised Charlie she'd stay after and help stack the movies. I knew what she was really staying for. And I felt kind horrible. I wanted to say something, but I didn't. My mouth felt glued tight, even though it hung agape. Then Blaine climbs back into the car, as I watch Anna fix her hair in the car window, losing sight of her as we pull out.

"Are you going to wear that shirt? It looked real nice on you."

I knew he was trying to make up for never noticing that I liked it, but I didn't care. And I knew he hadn't forgotten the 'you never notice me' blurt I had. This made me feel sorry for him, because it was becoming obvious that he was trying to make me happy. I was happy, secretly.

"It's a hoody. And I will, after I wash it."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before sighing and looking at me. I looked the other way just so he wouldn't see how curious I was.

"Porcelain-"

"Don't call me that, it's Kurt."

"What the hell is so wrong with a nickname?"

It was Anna's creation, her own personal, sneaky way of degrading me.

"You know exactly what's wrong with that name!"

I don't raise my voice much, and he didn't say anything for a while.

Then he said,

"You know, I really don't."

I wasn't in the mood to tell him why, not at all.

Blaine took me to Arby's. It was where we usually went to eat; there wasn't much of a line there ever. He worked there once, but he quit after a couple of weeks. I always noticed the extreme lack of people, and wondered if Blaine liked the quiet—or if he was ashamed to be seen with me.

He was the only friend of mine that wasn't a relative, so I hope he wasn't. I was worrying to much and I knew it. I was pretty sure Blaine knew it too, just wasn't willing to say anything. He didn't even ask me what I wanted, just handed me five dollars and skidded of to a table by the window.

The scary thing about Blaine Anderson was when he was angry, or lost in thought. Right now he was extremely irritated with me _and _thinking. This was better than him not thinking and hauling off and smacking me, like he did to his tough male buddies a lot. I wasn't there to witness the ultimate throw-down, I just noticed the badly wrapped bandages he did himself around his knuckles.

I got a thing of large curly fries, and a milkshake. I stared back at Blaine, who was drumming his knuckles on his knees, his face pinched slightly. I decided to order _two _large curly-fries and a milkshake. The short haired woman behind the counter smiled at me, before handing me my change and receipt.

"Is that your older brother?" She asked me, and I shook my head.

"He's just a friend."

"Hmm, a really troubled friend by the looks of it." I frowned and nodded.

"If you need any advice I'm open-"

"It's okay, really." I stated, Oh you mean you'd like me to introduce you to him? Showing off my teeth in an obviously fake smile I shut it down.

She bit her lip for a second, and I kind of wanted to tell her that her lip was beginning to split. She had chapped lips, the skin was peeling off, and they were red as Ms. Tit's lipstick.

"Well, have a good day, ma'am." She stated warmly, before handing me the fries and milkshake that had been sitting on the counter.

I gritted my teeth, deciding that she was nice enough not to spit on.

Blaine didn't look up when I brought the food to the table, and kept watching the cars that dragged by slowly out the window. So instead of sitting at the chair in front of him, I sat beside him. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, and I knew it. He did that a lot when he was thinking, he always had.

I didn't want him to be mad at me, I really didn't. Today was an off day, I'd be acting out- talking more, fighting. I brought a curly fry up to eye level, and then attempted to ram it up Blaine's nose. Blaine was startled at first, because he was pretty lost in la-la land, but then began to laugh. Like I said before, you couldn't really tell when Blaine was laughing, but it seemed like he was right now. He stared at me, his gorgeous dark eyes all watery and I smiled real big.

"I got you some fries." I stated, before handing him the milkshake too. We always shared our drink. It was cheaper to get one large than two smalls. He took it, and then grinned at me,

"You have a little bit of fry on your eyebrow." I pointed out.

"Whose fault is that?" He muttered, wiping it off.

I laughed. My laugh was high pitched, and never sounded quite the same. Blaine described it as, "A hippo with down-syndrome trying to sing like Sinatra." This was a pretty accurate comparison.

"Jessica Alba's, obviously." Sarcasm was the only benefit from hanging out with me. Blaine ignored the comment for a moment, his mouth busy with a wad of fries.

"She's pretty hot." He said, once he had swallowed. My stomach twisted. Every time I brought up a female's name, he quickly added an adjective about her appearance.

"She's pregnant, too. Oh, how I'd love to have intercourse with a pregnant woman." I muttered.

He paused, looking away, "Keep your wild sex fantasies to yourself."

"You should hear the one about Bert McCracken and the purple rhinoceros."

"You should here the one about Anna and Jessica Alba."

"I'm pretty sure I just puked a little." I glared at him, setting the milkshake back down harshly.

"Don't take it out on the milkshake." He teased.

"It isn't the milkshake's fault; I had just forgotten that you were sucking face with my mortal enemy about an hour ago, and I was just swallowing her herpes-infested saliva." I watched football playing on the TV screen until Blaine's arm moved to rest against my side of the table.

"Yet you don't mind sharing saliva with me?"

"You could phrase that different."

"You could interpret things better."

"You meant for me to interpret it that way; you know what they say about boys your age- especially you, with your raging pedophile hormones." I muttered again, pushing two fries together like people canoodling. He stared at me for a second, before grabbing my wrist.

"That's enough with the fries." He breathed.

I glanced at him, temporarily shocked by the sudden contact. Then I attempted to shake his hand off, "Way to get angry over fry-love-"

Blaine was staring at something else, his face all pinched again. I followed his gaze, and then remembered he had told Anna we were going to McDonald's for dinner—not Arby's.

Anna was standing with a blonde this time. She was dressed real nice, but her top was too low cut, showing those rock hard boulders of hers, she looked rather bloated anyway-She didn't need Arby's. I hadn't seen this boy before, he was pretty handsome, and dressed real nice, I observed him further. They were bumping hips and Anna was giggling like a woman mad with poison.

Blaine's gripped tightened on my wrist.

"Hey… Let's do take out at my place, okay?" He whispered.

I stared at him with all the sympathy I could muster but he just slapped my arm playfully.

"C'mon, slow poke." His voice cracked slightly and he turned fast, trying to get out the door before she saw him. Or maybe he was trying to get out before I saw him break down. I sprinted to keep up with him, leaving our milkshake at the table.

Blaine didn't play his worn c-d on the ride home. So it was very quiet, and I was fidgeting like crazy. I sat in the middle seat, the one closest to him. He was my only friend, and I wanted to be there for him but found myself lacking the social skills to do so.

"I-I'm sorry, Blaine." I whispered. He pulled one hand away from the steering wheel, and ruffled my hair playfully. I was a child.

"Not your fault." Is all I heard, because his voice was too low, and the crickets outside were too loud.

"Yes it is! I saw them. I mean, not this one, but every other boy she was with I saw them and I never said-"

"I saw them too." His fist was getting whiter, having been clutching my shirt so tight. "it doesn't matter."

We stopped in front of his trailer, and he opened the car door. Quite a breeze hit me and I shuddered, wondering if it was a mental thing or the night air. I decided on leaving the hoody in the car. I didn't want him thinking about Anna, or the stupid hoody she had bought me, but that was inevitable at this point.

He stood in front of the car door, waiting to help me out. I put both my hands on either side of his shoulders, and he hoisted me up before letting me down on the ground.

The hands that had been at my sides didn't leave them, though. I looked up at him, wondering exactly what he was doing.

His arms wrapped around me tight, pulling me too him and I stood limp as a rag-doll. My arms eventually made there way around him too, and he was murmuring under his breath. I'd never hugged anyone but my parents. It felt awkward and boney, lacking my dad's beer belly or my mom's softness.

"Stupid, stupid bitch; she knows I'll let her do anyone. That stupid bitch- that stupid bitch. Ruining my life."

I swallowed heavily, hugging him as tight as I could, which wasn't very tight at all. He pulled back for a moment, resting his forehead against the top of my head. Did friends do this? I was wondering if we were crossing a boundary… I blamed it on lack of social activity.

"Thanks, Kurt. You mean so much to me, you know?" He whispered, his finger brushing my cheek. I blushed, a strange nervous feeling rushing through my gut.

"You too." I replied, knowing that he meant more to me than I'd ever mean to him. That was alright, because this was as close as you got to hearing I love you from Blaine, unless you were Ms. Tits.

We sat in front of Blaine's TV, eating mu-shu pork and noodles. I looked over at him, and noticed I was really the only one eating. He kept poking at his food, and occasionally he'd get a real mean look on his face and stab his pork with his finger.

I swallowed tightly, and he looked up.

"Aren't you going to eat yours?" I asked. He stared sullenly at his pork.

"Sooner or later, I guess."

I got up off the floor, leaving my Chinese food behind. Plopping down beside him, I leant my head on his shoulder- like I did when we read National Geographic together.

"Don't worry over it, Blaine; she doesn't deserve being thought the world of."

He sighed, "Yeah, I know. I just wish I didn't let her do all this shit to begin with. I've never done that to her, I used to sleep around a lot in high school—but I gave that shit up for her. She should've too." I nodded.

"You're right… You don't need to step to her level, and that's a good thing, Blaine. You two will work this out, you've been together too long to give it up- she loves you and you love her." I hated myself sometimes. He looked up.

"Maybe it isn't, you know? Maybe it isn't a good thing. I should hurt her like she hurts me. I know I should. I give her all this freedom and I'm stuck obeying her every command."

I gawked at him, "No, Blaine. That isn't right." I know I probably sounded as idiotic as a preschool teacher talking baby-language to a three year old.

"I hang around a pretty kid all day, and don't do anything, and you're telling me it isn't right for me to cheat but she can go ahead?" He questioned his voice hostile.

I began to stutter, wondering if he just called me pretty, but then muttered, "Jeez, don't take it out on me." I was tired of the conversation already, Blaine was just becoming increasingly hostile.

He stared at me, all thoughtful like, and then pushed me down against the futon. I yelped, rubbing my head at the impact with the not-too soft cushions. I was surprised, wondering if he was back to joking around or if he was going to fight me. He loomed over me, that wolf-grin on his face. I liked that grin so much on any day but today.

"You're so cute, Kurt. You know how you said I don't pay any attention to you? That's a damn lie. I pay all the attention in the world to you. I just can't do it when you're staring back." I swallowed, for what seemed like the millionth time today, and then he continued, "I'm always thinking about you, Kurt. I don't know why but I can't stop, and it's just so wrong. I always let Anna cheat on me, 'cause look what I'm doing. I was always thinking of you when I was with her, didn't matter what we were doing."

I stared at him, his words were processing so slowly, and I couldn't think to push him off. I should push him off – Push him off Kurt, go on and do it! My mind was screaming but Blaine's eyes looked so different—cold and sad; and my urge to make him happy by just complying stayed there.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breathing all irregular and his heart-beat all fast against my arm. He kissed my neck gingerly, sighing when his lips made contact- and I kicked the numbness from my legs,

"O-okay, stop- you're only hurting yourself- stop it now Blaine."

He didn't though, just seemed real angry at the thought. So he kissed my chin hard, teeth bashing against it. Bit my jaw so hard it bled, then his tongue swiped across it, removing the evidence completely. I choked out a sob—This isn't how he kissed Anna.

Not like this though, not like this. His mouth crushed mine, and I didn't have time to breath, so I gasped and he didn't ask before I felt his tongue pushing into my mouth, he ran it across my own. I didn't respond, just tried to pull it to the back of my throat, so Blaine couldn't reach it. So he pinched me. Kept pinching my side over and over, and I knew my hair was sticking to my face with all the shed tears.

He pulled away for a moment, and I was sobbing like crazy, trying to sit up with his weight still on top of me. He moved off me quick as he could. That was my first kiss.

I was scared to look at him, just kept fumbling with my fingers. He went to grab my hand,

"I'm so sor-"

He began,

I elbowed him in the face, as hard as I could. Blaine had always referred to my elbows as ice-picks—sharp enough to wound a puppy. Apparently they wounded 18 year old jack-asses too.

I jumped to my feet and started running, my legs felt numb, and I knew I probably looked drunk as no other.

Blaine was darting after me, but I was already out the door and halfway across his lawn, but he had a pretty big lawn and long legs, so he was caught up in no time. He grabbed my arms, pulling me to him. I struggled,

"Let go! Let go-"

"Kurt!" He pleaded, and I looked to see he was crying too.

And I felt for him. I'd always felt for him but this is the first time he didn't smile it away like nothing was wrong. He was standing kind of awkward, leaning over me in a hunched way- his fists caught in my hoody.

"Please, please Kurt."

I knew I wanted to be around Blaine more than anything in the world, I wanted to keep watching him, and I wanted to keep him around me. But I was so confused and hurt, hurt that he might be thinking he can just use me to get back at Anna. I kept hoping not, and racking my brain to tell it that Blaine wouldn't do something like that to me because he was Blaine and Blaine never wanted to hurt me.

But my thoughts were jumbled and it felt like earlier today was years ago and that he'd grown and morphed in front of my eyes. That I was going to lose him this time, that he'd never be happy. Then I rested my head against his shoulder, and I could smell the scent of ashes and sweet shampoo and I knew it was him. He hadn't changed, he was just scared, and I was tired of watching the man in front of me lose everything.

So I wrapped my arms around him, in my not so-tight embrace and hoped he'd do the same. I kind of wish he hadn't hugged me back, because it was like pouring depression into my pores. So I squeezed him tight and he shuffled his arm behind the bends of my knees and lifted me up. I didn't even insist on walking as he silently strode back to the house, looking half-broken. And I knew I couldn't mend that broken piece, because Blaine was already about half shattered.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! If you read the last chapter and continued following or reading, thank you so much! I have a lot of fun writing this, so prepare yourself for another long chapter. Please review!

Disclaimer: Glee and it's characters do not belong to me.

He sat me down on top the couch, rubbing his hands down from his thighs to his knees- likely ridding himself of sweaty palms. Then wordlessly he flipped the channel from an infomercial and then back again before finally taking seat beside me. I laid with Blaine on the futon, watching some corny Boomerang show about a scary green which turning into a super hot redhead. He kept rolling his hands awkwardly cross my shoulder blades apologetically at intervals, and I didn't mind too much. My initial fear had passed. We were both confused, both worn out, and we both just wanted someone to answer our questions.

He moved his hands to his collar bone, rubbing it awkwardly.

"…Did you stop me because- " I continued watching the tv screen, waiting for him to finish his inquiry.

"…Well you know?" He finished.

I looked at him, hoping he'd elaborate- tell me what he meant by his question. But he didn't, he just kept staring at me like I was supposed to let him know why men kissed other men out of anger, but it wouldn't work that way. His eyes we're half lidded and red rimmed making them seem even darker with the odd lighting from the TV. I watched him chew on the inside of his cheek, and I had the urge to chew on mine too.

"What- What do you mean?" Was the brightest thing that fell from my mouth at that moment. I could see the realization bloom in his eyes that I was more lost than he. His chewing paused and he muttered something about needing a cigarette under his breath.

"Nothing, never mind." I felt like I should have said something else, because now I was curious to know what he had meant- and it wasn't going to happen. He opened his mouth and closed it multiple times, before he continued- "I don't want to know, I'm sorry. This is too confusing already. I'm sorry for dragging you into my selfishness. Let's just pretend today didn't happen the way it did."

My legs felt tired, but my thoughts were going a mile a minute and I couldn't calm them down long enough to think about what I wanted to. I tried shutting my eyes but reopened them again to make sure I wasn't just waking up. Forget what? You always remembered who your firsts are. I remember my first fight, my first friend, and I definitely wasn't going to forget my first kiss. Even if I wanted to. My back brushed Blaine's knee. He tenses slightly this time as I rest my head on his arm like I always do. So I decide to use the pillow instead- figuring he probably thought we had had enough physical contact for a lifetime.

I wondered what Ms. Tits would say about her boyfriend sharing a homo-experience with me. One that was blatantly brought on by her boyfriend. I laughed softly to myself, wishing more than ever that she was the one having to go through this, because I really didn't understand the drama and didn't need it. It didn't make sense to me at all. Nor was it anything instigated by myself.

I wondered what anyone would say. Blaine had always been perfectly straight, when I didn't know him- I couldn't count the number of different girls that had been slung onto his arm or kissing his cheek around town. I couldn't count how many girls trying to break their mother's heart wanted to. The more I was around him, the more I noticed he stared sometimes, at pretty boys- but when Anna came around- any doubt about his preference totally ricocheted out the building. I thought he loved her, I knew he loved her.

So it just seemed like one miserable lie that'd he'd ever call me cute, that'd he'd ever kiss me. But it happened, it happened and no one would ever believe it -because- even I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't lived through it. I tried reminding myself that it was out of spite. What is spiteful actions that are unknown to be? Just a careless action? Maybe it evened them out in his own mind.

Blaine was a wonder, and now I knew why people strived to label him; I had the urge now to shove him into a box, a stereotype- so I didn't feel like he was so out there. Every thought I had to over think- ending up wearing me out and bringing my eyelids closer together, and somehow I was out before I even knew I was falling asleep.

I woke up feeling groggy and my stomach hurt from worrying. I felt an obvious cramp in my side, either from crying, the position I was sleeping, or just plain stress. Apparently I wasn't the only one worried; Blaine sat at the edge of the futon, staring at me with a cigarette between relaxed lips that obviously hadn't been ashed since he lit it- and his eyebrows were knitted together tightly. He didn't even readjust his gaze when I had obviously awoken.

"Morning sunshine." He chuckled half-heartedly and I just stared at him, rubbing the corners of my eyes- thinking maybe today was the day we'd just forget about it all. Blaine was obviously in-character and trying desperately not to break it. It was a little too obvious for my liking.

As soon as the thought pricked a corner of irritancy in my mind, he seemed to sense it and prematurely break with the acting,

"Anna called." He muttered, scanning my face for an emotional reaction.

Inwardly, I felt taken aback, afraid, angry, sad, everything all at once and I didn't know what to do. It was the sense of normality to the day but I was scared about what he had said, or what she had said, or if they were together or if they were apart and half of me was half-wishing they weren't together because I wasn't really intent on sharing Blaine's attention to begin with. Once you have it all focused on you, even if it's just for a moment, you don't want him thinking about anyone else.

"Really? What'd she say?" I asked, trying to keep that hint of spite out of my voice.

"Oh, she asked me what we were doing."

"… What'd you tell her?" I asked, wondering why he was being so vague.

"That I fucked your boney body last night. Shit, Kurt. Why are you acting so paranoid? It's not like she was peeping through the window."

I swallowed hard again, and wondered if it was becoming a habit. I was wondering why the anger was suddenly being so forcibly taken out on me, I hadn't played any role in what he'd done or said. I said stop, I said that it would hurt them both, and I had forgiven him.

"Please, I don't need you yelling at me first thing in the morning, Sergeant Anderson." I bit out angrily.

He rubbed his temples slowly.

"Look… I apologize. We're gonna be hanging here for the next couple of days. You're dad called while you were sleeping, he's got a fishing trip with my uncle." He looked a little irate that I'd be bumming over, and I felt a little insulted. I wasn't the one who went all broke-back mountain.

"You answered my phone-? Never mind, Anna's coming over here?" I assumed that 'we', actually meant the 'three' of us, because that is exactly how it had been for the past three weeks. Her presence was becoming an expected requirement.

"No, me and you." Suprising.

"I told her I went down to Cali for a couple nights. I- I just need some alone time to clear my head. Thanks to your dad-" I must have been visibly hurt because he backtracked. "Sam already came and took my truck to Rachel's."

I didn't know what to say, I didn't think it'd be that good of an idea for me and Blaine to just chill around his place after what had happened. I thought that it was more appropriate to say that I needed a break from him at this point, just to clear my head- or let him clear his.

"Blaine, don't start acting like I'm such a hindrance to you. I'm old enough to be alone, you can drop me off at my house-"

He scoffed, he and I both knew well enough how protective my dad was. He would not be a happy camper if he found out that Blaine had left his poor little boy at home to fend for himself. He pulled the shades open to the backyard.

I watched as the sun hit his face, and his eyes squinted slightly. He was still the nice-looking Anderson I'd know since I'd hit puberty. There had been an obvious shift in our behavior towards each other from the last week until now.

"But I really want to go to the thrift store with Anna." I mumbled.

"As long as you roll up the windows." He bargained with a fake high pitched voice, and I glared at him.

"Your negotiating skills pale in comparison."

"They're a force to be reckoned with."

"I should slap the white off of you, Blaine." And he grinned; in that wolfish way that splits his face in two.

"Look whose talking, pasty little man."

Then he reminded me that he didn't have his truck and that that was an awful long walk. So I sighed heavily, and grabbed a cup of pudding from the counter. His barstools were kind of worn, and rocked when you moved. It was like a life and death experience but my ass was going to permanently become a couch fixture if I didn't change locations.

Thinking- oh thinking, it made me start unconsciously rock back and fourth in it, and I ended up sitting the pudding back down on the table because I had made myself nauseous with worry and really didn't feel like eating it anymore. So I started to stare at Blaine, who was pacing inside the 'living room' and running his hand through his hair over and over again. I frowned a little and turned away, leaning my head against the table. I ended up drifting off again, and couldn't quite understand how I could sleep so much these days. It must be my stress-free zone.

It didn't feel like such a long time when I woke up again, but I saw a bag drop in front of me, the cheap label 'Charlie's Pawn' sketched across it. It didn't click at first, but then I picked up the bag and recognized it to be my hoody. And then I recognized the high pitched voice in the distance and Blaine's husky, sharp one. They both didn't sound very happy- and I looked up to see Sam in front of me- he was frowning and I didn't quite grasp the situation.

"Anna saw the car at Rachel's place, she's plenty pissed." He shook his head leant his head towards the door. I looked out, and sure enough Ms. Tits and Blaine were in a full blown argument in the front yard. Her makeup was streaming down her face, and he was the mere epiphany of rage. "Blaine looks even angrier than her, now that I look at it. What's happening between those two all the sudden?"

I blinked at his question, because I never really thought of it as all the sudden, but then again- to anyone else they looked like a pretty good couple. Guess cause they didn't know how Ms. Tits got around or how Blaine let her, or the building tension in their faces. This was the first time I saw them fight, and it seemed they were letting the two years and eleven months of repressed anger out on each other-Which could end in man-slaughter if something didn't stop them.

I got close enough to the wire door to overhear their conversation, which was pretty easy since it was about as loud as a fucking elephant sporting a tuba.

"You lied to me! Do you know how degrading that is?"

"I'm the one who should be asking you that!"

"Saying I'm going to California isn't as bad as fucking some sweaty old coot from a pawn shop! Did your hair-dye seem into your brain-cells?"

"Don't you even start with me! You've known I've been with other guys, you just never cared enough to stop me! You know I know why!"

I watched Blaine's facial expression falter, and he looked crushed. I wanted to tell the wench that he cared so much that he didn't want to stop her. But she wouldn't believe it; she needed a reason to be angry at him and this was it. I watched him turn around, pissed- he took towards the door and I barreled away from it- fast as Speedy Gonzalez.

"And the reason is sitting right there in your fucking living room." I heard her hiss.

It was opened with enough force that it swung back and the door knob left a dent in the wall. He turned towards me and grabbed my arm, and I was pretty sure he wasn't going to let it go unless I chewed it off.

"I'm the bad guy, Blaine! I'm the whore, because I don't bring my fantasies home and keep them shacked up at my place like you do!" She was storming after him, pointing at him and simultaneously wiping her nose.

"Come on." He hissed, "We're leaving." He shoveled his keys into his pocket and took out the other door – stomping as Anna followed behind us, straight on his heels begging for him to turn around. I couldn't focus on what she was saying- just the searing pain of his grip every time her voice emitted.

"What is she talking about, Blaine?" My pulse was racing, I was almost positive she wasn't talking about Sam.

Sam just stared at us all, a banana half dangling from his mouth, because he was always the type to help him self to your household's groceries. But I couldn't even laugh at his facial expression, because Blaine was already picking me up and shoving me into the car. He wheeled around long enough for Anna's pouting face to give him the worst look before smacking that jewelry covered hand across his face.

He didn't even flinch from the impact, just grabbed her hand and said,

"We both have secrets, Anna."

I watched her eyes widen behind her bleary makeup, look away, and sob.

"It's not worth it if it's the only thing keeping you from leaving me-" She croaked.

He let her hand fall, running his hand through his hair, looking back at her- and before I knew it he was in the car, reeling down on the gas like no other. Anna looked at me, she actually looked like she was hurt for once. We sped out of his driveway, leaving his front and back door wide open, Boomerang still running, and a half pint of mu-shu pork on the coffee table.

He was gritting his teeth so hard; I thought his jaw would break. His skin was marred with a scratch from Anna's ring, and I wanted more and more to just plunge myself out of the window. It probably wasn't the safest idea, so I refrained and continued to stare at his knuckles, which were clenched tight. I imagined him thinking the steering wheel was Ms. Tit's throat. I wasn't even going to question their fight-

I was already seriously considering lobotomy.

I stared at the road, and I stared at Blaine who didn't even seem to want to look at anything at the moment. I swallowed, and tried to get myself to start a conversation a few times- but I couldn't because it's hard to piss Blaine off and even harder to get him happy again. He rubbed his temples and I waited for him to click on the radio- but he never did. It was the silence of impending doom and I was stuck right inside it.

"… Are you hungry?" He asked, and I realized it was nightfall now. I looked up at him and nodded. I realized he wasn't looking at me, so I decided I might want to voice it if I wanted food.

"Yeah, are you?" I asked, hoping he'd at least talk.

He stared at the dashboard, and I realized we were approaching a gas station. He shrugged and muttered something along the lines of not having much of an appetite. I sighed, and leant my head against the window, hearing the ignition turn off. I felt tired, my stomach cramps weren't subsiding.

"Hey, Kurt- Don't give me that face." I lifted my head immediately, wondering what I had done before processing that Blaine was giving me a warm smile. "You're prettier when you smile." The blood in my head instantly rushed to my cheeks and I could feel it. I wanted to calm it before Blaine saw, but I couldn't and he just smiled his fake little smile again before kicking the car door open and jumping out. What boundaries had we crossed?

"… So are you." I thought, not daring to even whisper it even when I knew he was out of earshot- but I couldn't deny that the Anderson boy was handsome- no matter what facial expression he was making.

I watched him shut the door, my cheeks still hadn't returned to their normal temperature like I hoped they would when he opened the door. He spread his arms and I removed my seatbelt- putting my arms on either side of his shoulders as he lifted me up. I didn't get that near flying experience for very long, because the skinny, tall boy in front of me sat me down on the ground- ruffling my hair with a sad expression.

I frowned and bit my lip, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the station's entrance. He walked behind me, his steps not nearly as angry as this morning- just heavy with his shoes. The cashier shot us a tired smile and I smiled back- heading towards the candy bar section.

"You are the least healthy person I know." Blaine chided.

"Shove it, Mr. I have a fat man living in my fit-butt waist." I glared jokingly.

"Did you just call me fit?" I could tell he really wasn't in the mood for humor, just catering to my want for a sense of normalcy. I tried to just ignore him, grabbing a candy bar and a Yoo-hoo out of the back fridge. I watched Blaine, who was grabbing a box of pop tarts.

"What are you getting that for? We have that at the house." I inquired.

He gave me a bland look, "Do you really think we're going back there? I thought we could drop in on Joel-Len and crash there."

I recognized that name. That was one of the old women Blaine had worked with a year ago. She was always sweet, but always smelt like cats and newspapers.

"Awe, but she smells weird! I don't want to smell that all night."

"Calm down, I have those sheets from when I stayed at your mom's that one night in the back of the car. We'll just lay them down instead."

"Ugh, I don't just want to drop in on her. What is it, like eight? That's like midnight for old people."

"Fine, we'll park the truck outside of some serial killer's residence and get murdered pick-axe style."

"…Don't scare me, okay? Just call her first." I mumbled, smiling as I grabbed the blueberry pop-tarts out of his hands and traded them for brown-sugar.

"Fine, fine." He grabbed my cell-phone, that'd been hanging out the side of my pocket. After a few minutes of trying to remember her number he huffed and handed me back the phone.

"Who else is open for visits?"

I swallowed and thought a moment.

"What about Lucy?" I asked, she was my aunt- a modern day hippy, sweet but exceedingly strange. Blaine made a face, I smiled, he glared.

"Seriously? Fine."

I knew he was reluctant, but I didn't mind- if it wasn't for him I could be sleeping on his couch right now and he could be in a nice comfortable bed, but he went all Shakespearean on my ass and pissed off his girlfriend.

"Hey, Lucy. It's Kurt. Me and my friend need a place to s-"

"Say no more, say no more. There is always a spot open for my little Kurt."

I glared since she couldn't see me anyway and nodded at Blaine, so he'd know it was a yes.

"Thanks Lucy, we won't be there for another thirty minutes- we're out at a gas station."

"That's quite alright! That gives me time to clean the guest room up a little."

"Alright, thanks."

"Okay! See you in a few!" She shrieked. I cringed and shoved the phone back in my pocket. Blaine chuckled from behind the slushy machine,

"I could hear her from over here."

"Well then be glad the phone wasn't on your ear."

I saw some Neosporin next to the checkout and grabbed it, throwing my half of the items onto the table, waiting for Blaine to quit refilling his coffee cup every time he took a sip. He strode over, dropping the pop tarts onto the counter.

"Why'd you get this?" He asked, picking up the Neosporin before the cashier took it and rang up the price.

"You've got a cut on your jaw line." I stated matter oh factly.

He raised an eyebrow and ran his hand across his jaw.

"Oh." He said simply.

I swallowed, wishing I had never said anything before grabbing the bags off the side of the counter. I was such a mother-hen, maybe I should of noticed he hadn't realized he'd even been cut- therefore it probably wasn't in need of antibiotics.

"Thank you, have a nice evening." The old woman said sweetly.

"You too." I knew that was near impossible, with the mood Blaine was currently jumping in and out of.

The car ride was just like the previous one, except I was giving directions, and Blaine was getting extremely pissed off with Lucy's housing area, saying that there wasn't any room to park, even though there had be three obvious parking spots I'd pointed out and he'd passed- probably just as an excuse to be angry or a lack of sleep. Finally, he parked in the first parking spot I had pointed out at least twenty minutes before circling the drive.

He helped me out of the car and grabbed the bags of food while I grabbed the blankets he'd been talking about. I nearly stumbled on them but Blaine stuck his hand out, pushing it against my chest and preventing me from killing the sheets and most likely myself.

We didn't even have to knock before Lucy swung the door open, nearly taking off both our faces.

"Howdy do! Come in, come in!" She smiled. I watched Blaine put on the fakest looking smile ever and almost laughed. He probably wanted to wring her neck.

"So, well, I guess you haven't been her for a while, huh?" She laughed awkwardly- I nodded and she pointed up the stairs.

"First door on the right!" She called; we were already halfway up the stairs, more than willing to get out of her earshot.

The room was pretty nice, but Blaine was already stripping down the sheets.

"Ugh, I am more than ready to sleep." It was the first time I noticed his accent in a while. I tried not to focus on it, because it was weird how I kept paying so much attention to little details like that. It was weird that I liked to hear him talk.

So instead I just waited for him to finish, he was applying his own sheets, felt black ones that were worn grey in some areas from lint and washing them on the wrong laundry setting. Satisfied, he sat down, kicking off his shoes, I realized how little the bed happened to be. I tried to find a chair, a couch, a window seat, a soft spot on the floor. I stared at him, and then the bed, and then him again. And then I realized that I had never shared a bed with Blaine, that I always slept on the futon- and he slept on the couch. I swallowed, hard- then pushed my shoes off, yanking my socks off too. I examined the shape of my toes, tugging and pinching the inside of my palms. I glanced up beneath my hair- and back down- and back up again. Was he catching on that this was a strange situation or was I over thinking?

He was smirking slightly; I could only kind of see it because he was turned almost complete around. I wonder what he thought was so funny. It kind of unnerved me, seeing how the past couple of days the only time he smirked was when we were a little too close or about to end up that way.

He turned around,

"You coming to bed, cause I'm about to hit the hay." The smirk was still apparent, and I scratched my head and looked away.

"Yeah, I am." I fumbled with my pant's button awkwardly- waiting for him to turn back around. His eyes slid from my face and down to my feet before he finally looked away. I removed the pants quickly, standing clad in my boxers and too-big for me Ramones shirt. _'You're not a princess about to loose your chastity-Kurt, quit acting so weird.'_

I looked over at Blaine, just to make sure he wasn't still giving me that awkward look, and he wasn't, he was just peeling his belt off his jeans. I stumbled over towards the bed, reaching under the sheets and lifting them up enough to get under.

Blaine did the same; he hadn't bothered to remove any article of clothing- but looked completely comfortable as it was. Our faces were close as he turned towards me and smiled slightly.

"Thanks for putting up with me today." He whispered, and I swallowed again.

"It wasn't a big deal." I pulled the covers up further, because my insides were kind of cold at the thought of Anna. He closed his eyes, and I saw that horrible sadness again.

His eyes opened, and he stretched one of his hands out, idly tracing spirals on my back. A weird chill pushed through me every time he did so, and I started to focus more and more on his eyes than anything else. I noticed that I'd never really looked at Blaine like this before; I always needed to turn away before he saw me.

"I never wanted her anyway." His palm pressed against the small of my back pushing me towards him and melding our chests together. He wrapped that one arm around me tightly, and before I thought to push away- I was burying my head in his chest and hugging him back. I felt guilty, thinking of Anna crying, Blaine and I were friends though, he'd comforted me plenty of times. I closed my eyes. I think that's how we fell asleep.

Usually I wake up a few times during the night, and I did tonight, seeing as how I'd already slept quite a bit that day. Blaine was facing me, his dark hair lying across the pillow, and structured face relaxed, hand on his collarbone with one knee raised up.

I stared at him, tracing patterns on this cheek with my fingertip, and laughing when he scrunched his nose up. His eyes finally began to open, and mine widened, having inadvertently woken him up.

He rubbed the side of his head, and stared at me a long moment- before sitting up. I started to- but before I knew it he had flipped back over and on top of me. I stared up at him, my hips now straddled underneath his. He was holding his weight with both his arms on either side of my head and I began to question his actions. He was wearing no expression this time, was just staring awful hard and breathing awful deep.

"Hey Kurt." He greeted, in a more than not predatory way.

"What are you doing, Blaine?" I inquired, attempting to shuffle my legs around.

He didn't answer me, just leant down and planted a kiss on my jaw. I swallowed and stared at the wall behind him, growing less and less confused and more and more worried. "What were you doing?" He questioned, chuckling.

"Blaine, you don't want to do this." I wasn't convinced myself- and I wasn't sure if I wanted him to get off me.

"I've _been_ wanting to do this."

His eyes were fogged slightly, and I couldn't quite focus on them- just the legs on each side of my hips. His eyes lidded- then closed, and collapsed to the side of me. I shriek in the slightest bit-not like a girl mind you. But he just moved around, situating himself in his sleep. I swallowed hard and rubbed my face- making sure not to move to much, I didn't want to become part of Blaine's dreams again.

Or did I?

I started questioning my sanity as I crinkled the sheets between my palms, before bringing it to my chin and falling asleep.

4:23 a.m.

I squinted at the caller-id, kind of peeved from lack of sleep as I did so.

One Missed Call: Dad 4:22 a.m.

Swallowing, I rolled over and nudged Blaine awake; he put his hand over his eyes and sat up, snatching the phone from me.

"What's with the neon glow, Mr. Stripper?"

I scoffed and pushed a button, highlighting the screen.

"My dad called! Did you tell him we were leaving the house? I didn't-"

"Sooo? Call him back, why are you giving me the phone?" He asked, avoiding looking at me. I swallowed, and tried to get in his line of vision. Failing epically, as he turned his face away and I felt completely and utterly depressed all the sudden. Fighting back that sting in my consciousness, I said,

"Well he trusts you, tell him we had to leave for some reason- I don't know- you're better at this than I am." He grunted, turning his body away from me as he took the phone off the pillow and began dialing his number. I didn't feel anyway at ease, like I was dreading something awful- not because of my dad. He really doesn't care what I'm doing if I'm with Blaine. Blaine was acting strange though, and It felt like he was irritated with me, and I didn't know why.

"'Hey pretty young thing." I heard Blaine laugh, a forced one as he started playing with the sofa. I heard my stepmom's screechy little, "Oh shucks" kind of laugh before he continued. Of course she would be up at four.

"So you probably came by the house, I'm sorry we weren't there. We're down in the boonies, the door wouldn't shut and I was too scared to sleep at the trailer."

"Yeah, yeah- I understand, I don't think he was thinking about it at the time though. We'll make sure to call next time."

"Alright, bye."

He tossed the phone into my lap and his eyes trailed down my bare legs- before slipping back up and over the bed,

"You're in the clear, thanks to me- of course."

"… Thanks." I choked, trying to bring his eyes to meet mine.

They didn't- and I was getting more and more worried.

"What's the matter Blaine?" I asked, leaning over him after he had laid back down. His back felt weird on my chest- like our body heat had melted together. He stiffened slightly.

"Nothing, I'm just trying to sleep while this pesky little kid keeps bothering me at 4:00 a.m." He chuckled slightly. I stared at the back of his head, watching the dark smooth wisps of hair that fell over his cheek bone and into his grin line. I wanted him to look at me, and call me cute and pretty, and smile at me- like he had been doing. I felt like panicking because I absolutely did not want him to stop-

Flirting with me?

Because I had never had the courage to do it back? To touch him back, or kiss him back? Was Anna really my problem, or was I a coward?

I swallowed hard, trying to get closer to him without tangling myself in the blankets. I leant over him to a further extent, moving upward so our face where aligned even though his was at an angle. I was pulling up every ounce of courage inside me as I did so.

"Blaine…"

"Yeah, Kurt-?"

"I hope you can forgive me." And I pressed my lips to the corner of his own, hoping he didn't think I was aiming for his mouth- because then I would look stupid. He sat up quickly, and I toppled over on the bed. His breath had deepened and his cheeks had the smallest tinge of pink. His eyes were wide- and I didn't know why. Was he mad? Should I run now? Way to go Kurt.

"-W-hat the- Kurt! What is- why are **you doing ****this to me?"** He seemed angry, but confused and I stared at him, just as dazed.

"I don't know- I don't know what I did." I whispered, putting my fingers to my lips. Did I do it wrong? He swallowed; I watched his Adam's apple bob slightly underneath his necklace.

"- You- you tease me… Non-stop- you dangle your feelings in front of me like I can have them. Like you could be mine and then you take it away. I take it away from myself, God I don't even know-" He slapped his pillow and it fell unceremoniously off the side of the bed.

I stared, my mouth dry. I had never thought about it- my action wasn't pre-meditated because I really never thought- I wasn't thinking.

"Blaine, I- I just thought you were mad at me-"

"So you settle it with a kiss? Do you now how hard it is- I can't look at you without- Why am I such _a faggot_- do you get it? I'm not supposed to want you."

I couldn't even say anything to him, I wobbled a bit as I stood- kind of shocked. I wrapped my arms around his chest and his hands ran roughly down my back- pushing me against him so hard that I thought we might meld together.

"…What's the m-matter Blaine?" I whispered I was so dazed; I wanted to know what was the matter with- well me.

"I had- I had a dream."

".. about what?"

"-Bout you… I just want to be happy- I want to-I can't stand it when _you touch me_."

"B-but- we've always- why not?"

"You don't **get** it. I want so much more, and you **don't get it."**

I didn't understand his rage at the situation, I just wanted it to end- and I looked up to see his eyes slanted, peering down at me with this facial expression I didn't comprehend. His hips dipped away from mine as he lowered his face- and at some point I managed to fist my hands inside his dark cotton shirt- wanting him at a closer proximity than he was. I hugged him again. He smirked at this, teeth showing dangerously. I blushed and tried to look away- but his forefinger and thumb caught my chin; twisting my face back around.

Our gazes locked, and he leaned forward,

"_You're right… You- never stooped to her level, and that's a good thing, Blaine." He looked up._

_ "Maybe it isn't, you know? Maybe it isn't a good thing. I should hurt her like she hurts me. I know I should."_

I untangled my fists and pushed him back- he stiffened- his facial expression contorted into someone who was utterly confused.

"I don't want to be on the same level as Anna." I'm nothing like her.

I took interest in the flooring fast, too ashamed to meet eyes with him. It was the reason I could not believe he actually wanted me. I was the rebound for Ms. Tits. I don't know why he didn't go and find another playboy bunny- but I wish he would. I'd always loved Blaine Anderson, despite his flaws. I wasn't going to be used by him though, I had respect for myself, If he said he liked me so much, then why was he with her.

His socked feet quickly appeared in my line of vision; I'd always wondered how he could move so quickly.

"… Is that what you think this is? You think all this is just to get some kind of sick revenge on Anna?"

He lifted my chin again- his eyes weren't as dull- more piercing in fact as they held mine to a standstill. My heart rocketed inside my rib-cage as he spoke.

"Look around, Kurt. She isn't here, there's no evidence in her mind that I'm gay. She could use this against me before I could use it against her- do you get that? What makes you think that I would even think of playing you as a pawn to win that wench's affections?"

"**Look at me, Blaine-!"**

I grabbed his hands, pulling them to my chest, and then backed away from him- avoiding the tears spilling under my eyelashes.

"_I'm scrawny, I'm pale, my nose is too round and my eyes are too big, I'm a BOY _…And you know it. And when Anna came around you always told _me how you loved _taking her out in public- just to show off the fact that you were with_ her_. I feel so stupid, I was just so_ jealous_-"

Palms cupped my cheeks, interrupting my emotional tirade. His thumbs brushed away the angry tears, and he smiled.

"_You're gorgeous, Kurt. Absolutely breath-taking."_

His lips pressed against my jaw, and his smile widened.

"You have such _soft skin_."

Then they pressed to my eyelid, which had fluttered shut.

"You have the _prettiest gray eyes_."

They pressed gingerly to my nose.

"You've got such a _cute nose_."

He twirled my hair between his fingers, and he pulled me to him, his arms wrapping around me tightly.

_"And you're the perfect size for holding."_

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, no matter how short it is I appreciate having them! Sorry for my excessively long chapters, this story is my baby and I spend a lot of time working on it.

x bi-blu


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, everyone! Whoever is still reading, thank you so much! I really appreciate the follows and favorites, and especially those who took the time to leave a review, I was so happy to receive even the slightest comments.

Brace yourself for a very dramatic chapter, and a slightly heated one. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of it's characters.

I blush into his chest, a small smile spreading on my face. I'd never felt like this, it was like a romance film. His hand ran from my back to the back of my arm, gripping it as he grew closer-eye contact still as gripping as it was before. I watched his head tilt, and his legs dragged across the floor- pushing at my knees and hips as he tugged my arm harder, throwing me against him at an angle. He grabbed the side of my face, tilting it one more as he traced his open lips across my jaw. He dipped out of eyesight as I looked ahead, his path continuing over the heartbeat in my neck. I could hear it thrumming between us. I pushed my cheek into his palm. I felt his feet drag once more, I watched his garnet eyes hum with silent intensity and I walked backwards with him, our knees coming in contact with the other's legs ever so often. It felt like our faces were moving towards each other through muddy water, intense and slow. He wasn't going to kiss me.

He smirked at me, eyes half lidded and fully aware that I wasn't participating simply because I knew not how to. He pressed his lips against my forehead, still parted and forcefully, his fingertips now kneading through the fabric of my shirt lining on my hipbones. "Kurt-" He breathed, my ears prickling incessantly at the feeling, "was I your first kiss?" My eyelids drooped. I nodded dumbly. "What was it like…?" His finger slid under the hem of my shirt and skid across a sliver of skin below my navel. I choked, he chortled against my neck.

"Hungry." I gawked at my stupid response, heat rising. It had felt like I was being attacked by a wolf. My whole body felt wounded and lit.

"So what is this like?" He whispered, connecting our lips with an intense heat, hard and shameless as he slid his tongue past my lips, holding my back in an attempt to steady me. I had hit the edge of the bed at this point, and his hands on my back were guiding me into the sheets as he leaned. I let him, brain racing, utterly uneducated. He sprawled his hands across my shoulder blades, gripping and shoving me upwards unto the pillows, kiss deepening, dangerous, his mouth pulling from mine to run his hand down my inner thigh, clearly watching for any change in my expression. I knew there had to be something, because I was not good at hiding how I was feeling- and I felt-

He pushed my leg to the side, crawling in-between them, before pulling me up into him, everything was so hot and the air was thick in my lungs- tongue swollen, lips swollen. I felt something hard press into my stomach, startled and shocked I threw my arms to the side, hand coming into contact with something smooth. After a think crash of combusting porcelain, I realized I had just basically swung a vase across the room. Blaine jumped back, eyeing the mess as he straightened out his pants. I pulled my shirt down hastily covering my stomach.

I heard heavy footsteps growing closer to the room and barreled my way out of the bed, rolling into the floor haphazardly. Blaine palmed his face, half laughing, half irate. The door flung open, revealing an exasperated Lucy.

"Were you two-" She gave us an angry, disappointed look. "You two cannot be picking fights in this room! This room was made for love!" She slapped the bed next to Blaine. "This bed was made for love!" She protested. I sighed, she had no idea what kind of 'love' was going down on her sheets moments prior, I almost cracked a well-hidden smile of amusement at her thinking we were brawling. From the flushed cheeks, broken vase, and untidy clothing, it kind of made sense. She pointed at the door. "You, downstairs. You have been demoted to sleeping on the couch!" Blaine rolled his eyes upwards, and I pressed my face into my hand to keep from laughing. Pacifists…

I woke that morning, to a grumpy and slowly awakening grey-blue sky, it was misty and seemed as if it might rain. I felt warm and comfortable, my eyes were fuzzy. I noticed that my sky had something very peculiar in it, in fact, it had a bobbing Anderson head. I blinked twice, realizing my surrounding were moving as well, I cricked my head to the side, obviously above ground, watching the pavement and pebbles pass. Blaine was carrying me, covers and all, and I felt like a bud on a tree, like this was finally blossoming into something. He pulled open his car door, never having bothered to lock it in the first place. There was nothing to steal. He sat me down, clicking open his phone. Old fashioned and grey, it looked like nothing more than a tracker phone.

He closed the door, leaving me inside without a second glance. I watched him pull his phone to his ear, holding it with his shoulder as he lit a cigarette. I stared at the dashboard, a picture of me on my 16th birthday- mouth pulled wide into a smile and eyes almost closed in excitement. Blaine had snapped this, right before I blew out the singular candle on my miniature cake. I wonder what I had wished for now, something that was so important then- I could barely remember now. Maybe I wished to be happy, it sounded suitable. This was happy, this unfamiliar buzzing in my chest had my head fuzzy.

I gazed out the window, finding Blaine making hand motions, swinging his cigarette as he talked either aggressively or passionately. I don't think he could tell the two apart. I knew it was Anna on the other side of his shit-phone. I picked at the adhesive tape where the picture of the two of them had been beside my own photo. Anna looked beautiful in it, she looked classy and done up, smiling over her shoulder with a black rain jacket adorning her shoulders. Blaine's rain jacket. When had he removed the photo? I hadn't seen it in quite a while. The adhesive was turning a mucky shade of brown and grey, a few stray hairs clinging to it. Why did my Polaroid remain? My unattractive, overly giddy face was just plastered right against the plastic, awkward, out of place, questionable.

I felt my confidence dripping away as I watched Blaine reel into his phone, chatting away. He paused, obviously lost in thought as he sat on one of the cement curbs, dropping his cigarette stub and rolling it around between the tips of his shoes. I inadvertently choked out a cry, wondering where it came from when it startled me from my observation. Was I supposed to confront him about this? I was trying to the night before, and somehow never reached any clarification of why he was with Anna and not… with me.

The car door creaked agape, Blaine avoided eye contact as he pulled his ducked head up inside the car, barely missing the ceiling roof. I felt my heart sink, tilting my head upwards to keep tears from spilling out. I already knew what was happening. I might as well rip my photo off his dash before he could. Blaine rubbed his temple with his first two fingers, sighing as he cast me a wayward glance. After what seemed like an eternity, we stopped in front of my house.

"Kurt," I felt a sob quake my chest, feeling it before hearing it. Blaine noticed, shook his head, eyes squeezed shut. "Kurt, I don't want to do this to you," He stopped, mouth making uncertain movements, "but there's- God I don't want to hurt you-"

"Then DON'T, Blaine." I grabbed his arm, the most contact I had ever laid upon him with intent. He seemed stricken by it, he tried to pull it away, shrug me off. I pleaded, raking my sleeve over my nose. He kept shaking his head, his eyes watering. His hands dragged against his collar and neck, tugging, stressed as he tried to speak, tears spilling over his cheeks. "I didn't think you were lying to me, Blaine. I feel- I _feel_," I coughed, sobbing harder, "beautiful,- I felt beautiful last night. You can't fool me into feeling that way, you meant it-" I pulled his hand to my chest. "I _felt_ it." I croaked. It meant something, I knew I heard something in his voice the previous night. He placed his forehead on the steering wheel, shoulders vibrating, face contorted, cheeks wet.

"You love me." He breathed. I was taken aback, literally. I leaned back in my seat, heart drumming hard and my stomach nauseous. "I-"he dropped his head from the wheel to his hands. "Why did I- It's too fucking late- I-" His eyes were soft and dead. "I've lost you." It was my turn to shake my head, furiously, grabbing his shoulders and making him face me even though my strength wasn't as great as his.

He shook me away, he clenched and unclenched his hand under his mouth- trying to restrain from biting it.

"Blaine- Blaine, if this-" I pulled at my sweater, feeling like I was being strangled by the cloth, my body was over heated and cold in all the wrong places. "Please don't leave me." Is all I could manage.

"You need to get out. I have to Kurt. You have to go home, you can't keep coming around anymore- This is too hard-"

"_Why_ Blaine? _You were right-" _I stopped crying, furiously wiping away my tears, probably causing red splotches to appear. "I love-"

"Anna's pregnant!" He yelled, though my brain took light-years to comprehend it, it seemed inaudible, like my ears were plugged from lack of oxygen. Everything fell from there. My gut collapsed, my brain shut off and I stared at him, my world crumbling. I had lost everything I thought I had. He didn't want me. She was having his baby. They'd get married, buy a house, raise their child, be in love. I unfastened my seatbelt, numb. I couldn't feel it, it wasn't sinking in.

It wasn't until I was in my room that I doubled over my knees, arms wrapped around my stomach, and I just cried.

I hoped everyone enjoyed, sorry for how short it was, but I had to leave it there or you'd have nothing to look forward to! Please, please review, and thank you if you do!

xbi-blu


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you all for reading! And those of you that have been continuing to leave such sweet reviews, please keep doing so! I love to have them, they make my inbox very happy.

Disclaimer; I do not own Glee, it's characters, or Mario Kart.

Warnings; A drunk Kurt dialogue towards the end. Jeremiah coming onto an underage Kurt.

I sat as far away from the blaring stereo as possible, dodging the occasionally overthrown beer-pong ball and the drunkard chasing it. I questioned my ability of rational thinking once more, before grabbing someone's stray solo cup to occupy my hand. I wondered if I looked like a major creeper, or if anyone here was even aware of my presence at all. I didn't know anyone but Jeremiah, and although I had basically shoved myself onto his plans for tonight via text after he'd mentioned a party. I wasn't thinking about the fact that he'd actually have friends here- that he might actually want to hang out with them more than some random kid.

I frowned at my reflection that was occupying the alcohol in my hand. I didn't even have the courage or the tolerance to get drunk, I realized. Maybe crying into a bowl of icecream while watching Never Been Kissed was a better idea. It beat thinking every dark haired silhouette that passed was Blaine, and biting back angry tears every time it wasn't. I hadn't seen him in over a month. I'd been staying at Lucy's in secret every time my Dad had tried to ship me off to Blaine's house. Great, now I was tearing up in the corner of a dark room at a party. Good Lord, I wasn't making any friends for a reason.

"Kurt," A breathless Jeremiah invaded my moping- passing me a bottle of Jaeger as he grinned- "are you not enjoying yourself?" I must have gave him some kind of incredulous look, because he backtracked over his sentence with an apology. "Sorry man, a few of my coworkers are here- had to introduce them to a few friends." I nodded, feeling silly. It wasn't his responsibility to keep me entertained. He turned around, snatching one of his dvd's out of a girl's hand and wagging his finger at her in an obvious 'no.' She gave him a snippy glare, tossing her hair as she pranced off. Hosting parties must be difficult, I thought.

"Am I out of place? I mean, thank you- for letting me come. I just hope I don't seem awkward." I was rubbing my arms now, suddenly breaking out in goosebumps. He stared at me, pity obvious in his gaze.

"I have no idea what's got you so down, bud. I know you're usually pretty quiet- even though you're a snarky motherfucker. You're acting like a black hole." He added. It wasn't snark- it was wit- and I was certainly not a black whole. "You know what will take the edge off though?" He asked, quirking his eyebrow at me- like he was about to tell me the secret to avoid balding before thirty.

"How?" I was genuinely curious, anything was better than the current nauseous, bitter, depressed feeling in the pit of my throat and stomach. He tapped the bottle in my lap, smiling with a wink. I shook my head, mortified. "I can't stomach it…" I mumbled "I mean-" I sighed, lowering my shoulders in defeat, Jeremiah howled a laugh, slapping my shoulder.

"Just try it, come on. This is vodka and mountain dew." I hesitated, unwilling to share a cup with someone as much as I was unwilling to partake in underage drinking. That would sound ridiculous out loud. What else was I supposed to be doing here? He rolled his eyes, shoving it into my hand. "It just tastes like soda made with splenda." He assured. I gave a reluctant sigh, before barreling back a gulp.

"This is **awful**!" I sputtered, coating my chin and wiping it away with the back of my hand. Great, I was going to smell like a brewery.

"After a while your tongue goes numb."

I definitely needed that to happen. So bravely, and trustingly, I threw back a few more sips. He had lied, obviously, and my stomach turned warmly after each swallow. He refilled my cup earnestly, taking a seat next to me and pulling up a remote.

"Let's play some Mario Kart, yeah?" He suggested, slyly. I nodded enthusiastically, all thoughts of Blaine being pushed to the corner of my brain, behind the liquor and nostalgic video games. I claimed the grey controller, looking less worn and downing my second cup of alcohol. "I'm going to beat your ass." He snickered.

I picked Luigi, imagining his choice of Peach to be Anna. No way was he winning now, I was going to take out my revenge on Mrs. Preggers via videogame.

By my fourth drink, I noticed I was no longer drinking vodka, but some strange brown concoction that smelled like my grandpa- and Jeremiah had his arm wrapped around my waist. I vaguely remember caring, and forgetting about caring before I did anything about it. He was muscular, taller than Blaine. He herded me into his side with his arm, and my senses wafted with Old Spice and paperback books. For a split second, I believed I saw Sam in the back of the kitchen, on his phone and glaring protectively. I didn't care.

Jeremiah's grin danced beside me- his green eyes hazed and curly hair falling from behind his beanie. I blinked rapidly before returning my attention to the video game, bursting his last bubble with my star power. I smiled, bouncing before I pounced up into the air. My vision shifted, bunking around in drafts.

"I win!" I yelped, despite my overwhelming sense of vertigo. The crowd that was now surrounding us began cheering and taking victory shots over the bets they'd placed. I thought it was a silly game to place a bet on. "Round two?" I asked eagerly, Jeremiah's face splitting as he laughed. He tugged at my t-shirt and I fell into his lap.

"Of course, Buddy." He mumbled, leaning up against my back. All I could do was let my eyes open and close warily. He sure was a touchy drunk. I watched the crowd disperse as, well I assumed, a known song began blaring through the stereo. I watched them break off into pairs, dancing and gyrating. Either it was the alcohol or the all the clothed sex going on- but I felt my stomach turn. Jeremiah put his arms around my waist , controller in my lap as he played. How awkward. Did any boys my age know the definition of personal space?

"Hey-" I started, my hands pulling absently at his sleeve to get his attention. I didn't know I already had it, "hey," I repeated. Goodness, I was ridiculous. "Do you know Blaine? Anderson?" I wanted to talk about the wolfish boy, and nothing was stopping me now, not even mind numbing alcohol.

I didn't expect his snort, and I jumped a little, eyebrows furrowing. "Yeah, I know the guy. Rejected him a few years ago." He chuckled, I gasped.

"Rejected-like-" My eyes widened. "Romantically rejected?" I wasn't one for gossip, but I was definitely interested now. Faintly, the fact that Jeremiah might be lord of the gay and I was in his lap- registered in the back of my mind.

"Don't get me wrong- attractive, even when he's been sporting that girlfriend accessory for three years…" I watched as Luigi slipped on Peaches banana. I almost cared. "Too rough for me. Masculine. I don't like fighting for my dominance." He continued, eyeing me. I gave him a suspicious look, but got over it in my need for information.

"Does anyone know- I mean-" I was half turned around now, controller slipping from my hands, I was propping myself up in his lap on the bean bag chair with one knee, genuinely interested. "He asked you- like does anyone know he's-" I looked around, "_gay?_" I whispered. He laughed and rolled his eyes again.

"You're drunk off your ass." I ignored him. "He's really good at playing straight- there's really no way anyone even suspects-"

"**Kurt, what the hell are you doing?" **My heart fluttered shut, and I fell to the side of the curly haired boy with an audible squawk. I was way too intoxicated for gravity right now. I looked up, trying to find where Blaine's voice had clearly emitted. _Oh, right beside me._ Of course. I was looking up into a pair of deadly dark eyes.

"Making friends?" I suggested, tongue bumping against the roof of my mouth and slurring my words. Jeremiah put his hand on my back trying to pull me back into a sitting position. Surprisingly, Blaine's hand came down and he _literally_ slapped his hand away from me. I giggled at the notion. Oh my God, I'm so dead. Why is everything so funny? Blaine grabbed my collar, dragging me off the bean bag and upright beside me. I glanced around, everyone was still preoccupied with grinding against their future morning regrets.

_Thank goodness. _

"Don't fucking touch him." Blaine snapped, eyes trained on Jeremiah.

Jeremiah put his hands up in defense, smirking. "Just having a little innocent fun."

Blaine snarled, but dropped it, dragging me towards the door- Oh I was going to hurl. I saw Sam and shot him my meanest face, pointing at my eye and then at him, definitely intimidating him with my "I see you." sign language. He shouldn't send Blaine after me, Blaine wasn't my father! He laughed behind his hand, maybe it needed some work.

As soon as I left the threshold the cold air of the summer night hit my body (I'd worn just a t-shirt and Capri's in fear that I'd over or under dress) and Blaine's lack of acknowledgement was not helping my Goosebumps disappear. That didn't last long, of course, because Blaine slammed me against the truck with the collar of my shirt he'd been leading me by.

"**What the hell did you- what the hell was that, Kurt?!" **He husked, grabbing my shoulders and squeezing them for good measure. I wasn't doing this, I wasn't going to explain myself to him. Was he always this beautiful? I palmed my face, how was I supposed to be angry when I couldn't keep a simple train of thought? Blaine seemed confused by my actions, but no less angry. "**Well?" **He demanded, eyebrows shooting up.

I stifled a snort. "I'm trying to not think about you- I'm not thinking about you tonight." I rubbed my eyes, angry. How was I not supposed to think about him when he was here? "So you should leave." I crossed my arms for emphasis, and then uncrossed them- suddenly feeling childish.

"You are being absolutely, fucking ridi- How much have you had to drink?" He sniffed me, acting like I smelled wretched. "How much?" He asked again, when I found more interest in the gravel.

"I don't remember." I muttered, ashamed. No, why was I ashamed? Why was he ruining my night? "You have to go, or I have to go home and watch girl movies and eat icecream!" I reasoned, he swung up his hands, exasperated.

"I have no idea what the **fuck** you're babbling about, but you aren't staying here." He made a move to open the truck door, but I plastered myself against it, arms out. I shook my head, vision shifting again. I felt hot. "Kurt, what the hell, move-" I groaned, I was definitely regretting that fourth drink. "You are not staying here with some horn-dog faggot, you don't even know anyone here you idiot! You could've gotten hurt." He was mumbling now, trying to pry my arms from the door. I turned to him, angry. "It's a good thing Sam called me."

"Sam is a traitorrr." I was allowed to have friends, I could party, I could do whatever I wanted. I was prepared to tell him that, turned around, mouth open- ready to shout- and nearly puked. He pulled me into his chest, arms around me. "We're going to get you some coffee, and then you're going to bed. If you're dad finds out about this he's going to kill you. And it's either my house or his." I felt liked I was hugging a cactus.

"You're emotionally constipated. I hate you." I muttered, sick to my stomach. He shook his head, lifting me into the car like I was some type of doll.

The car started and my stomach lurched once again, I plastered my face against the cool window, seeking comfort. I would love to lay naked in a big pile of snow.

"What?" Blaine asked, startled.

_Awe, shit. I definitely said that out loud._

"Nothing, stupid-face." I hunched my shoulders to hide my reddening cheeks.

"That's not even an intelligent-" He sighed, giving up. He pulled into a gas station, leaving me in the car with the heat on. Stupid, I was over-heated. I was practically melting like the wicked witch of the west. I kicked the AC on, _Oh, hey Blaine- haven't seen you in a month- for the occasion I look like a sweaty, smelly, word-vomiting mess._

"We're going to have one painfully long talk when we get to my house." I felt a coffee shoved into my hands. Great, more heat, more liquid. I was going to melt and simultaneously pee myself before we got there. Talk to that, asshole.

Hope you enjoyed this! Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello! I've returned with another lengthy chapter, I wanted to do a special shout out to GleeBlurts, who has been parading my story around with praise. It actually made me almost cry to see, thank you so much._

_And thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, I've gotten a few constant reviewers, and that makes writing this story great. So thank you!_

"This is burnt, and too sweet- and ugh, you already know I want to puke." I glared at the drink in my hands, he raised his eyes brows, and I turned my glare to him- unabashedly. I just might have been taking out my pent up bitterness towards Blaine through his coffee-gift, but quite honestly I didn't care.

"And who's fault do you believe that is? " He hissed.

"How late is it?" I mumbled, feeling around for my phone. I pulled it from the low confines of my pocket, sliding it open. "How is it even dead? It must have been that good 45 minutes of packman." I hummed, remembering that the beginning of the night hadn't started as exciting as it was now.

"It's nearly two a.m." Blaine answered, matter o'factly. "Way past your curfew, way too far from your house, and there is way too much blood to alcohol level speech coming out of your mouth." He added with a slight sneer over his shoulder. I wasn't being that bad, I'd barely even directly spoke to him since we had mounted his precious truck.

"Pff…Don't blame me for the uncomfortable position of your ladies underwear-"

"What the hell- you really just said…?" Blaine nudged the drink in my hands as a cue to keep drinking, to keep sobering up. "Just remind me why I like you and limit your snips to intelligent comebacks." He groaned, running his hands through his hair.

"Don't act like I'm a charity case, it gets a little old. I didn't ask you to come save me from big bad Jeremiah, I didn't ask to see you, I didn't ask for you to get me coffee or bring me home- and quite frankly-" I caught his eye, "I'm still not asking, and I still don't want to see you." His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't change the route his car was taking.

"Right now, I'm not **asking** you what you want."

"Right now?" I scoffed, raising my eyebrows. "You think this is new? You not asking me what I want? My place in things?" I shoved the coffee into the drink compartment, if I was going to make a fool out of myself while I was in this verbally retarded state- I'd go all the way. "When did you ask me what I wanted when you kissed me?" His eyes widened, fists white. "Or maybe, when you shoved me onto Lucy's bed?" His jaw tightened, "Or, why didn't you ask me what I thought about the fact that you were stringing me along and running back to your girlfriend?" He slammed on the brakes, and I would've reveled in the fact that I'd successfully spilled coffee on his floorboard if we weren't in his driveway. "Your **very pregnant** girlfriend."

"You think I wanted that, Kurt? Are you telling me you've avoided me for the past month over this? I thought you were different- you weren't judgmental, but as soon as I told you-"

"Oh **shut up**." I croaked, feeling my eyes water. "There's no one around, Blaine. You can actually be honest with yourself." I was rewarded with the click of his jaw as his mouth shut, surprised. "I didn't miss any calls from you, no texts, you didn't wonder why- you didn't think this was judgment. You knew that this was because I had feelings for you, and as soon as that realization dawned on you-" I removed my seatbelt and turned to face him. "As soon as you knew how I felt about you-God, I didn't even know how I felt. You told me, you made me feel it- you **made me know**- and then you crushed me."

"Kurt, I was thinking out loud- I didn't know until then. I was being selfish, I was doing what I wanted for once-"

"You didn't know? Then why would you kiss me? That was my first kiss-" I jutted my finger at him, "And I know that's nothing to someone like you, but it's a lot to me. That's not even what pisses me off. Yeah, you were selfish. How could you do that- to Anna? To me? You don't try out two different people."

"I wasn't trying you-" He grabbed my sleeve, pulling me across the bench seat and putting his palms against my cheeks. My cheeks were warm with the rush of alcohol, and his palms were cold and neutral as always. "Listen to me. I genuinely care about you, which is so much more than I can say about a lot of people." He brushed a stray hair from the side of my ear. "It fucking- it tore me apart- I was going crazy, I was angry and stressed- I wanted to do something that wasn't expected of me. I wanted to be myself. I'd lost everything- I wanted to see if I'd lose you- or if I had lost some sort of chance of being with you. I couldn't leave it there though. I have lost that chance-"

"Why couldn't you tell me- Why now?" I was approaching an undignified screech.

"I'm not going to be like my parents- Kurt. I'm not going to fucking run off on my own wants and needs. If she's got a fucking baby inside her-" He dropped my face, actually seeming to direct his anger at me for the first time in this conversation. "Then I'm not going to be the deadbeat who chooses his own life over theirs."

I felt a certain rage swell inside the bottom of my stomach. "You don't even know if it's yours-" I growled, throwing open the door. Before I was halfway out, I was being pulled back in, roughly, angrily.

"I'm so fucking tired of hearing that!" He growled. "I don't think she'd hold something that wasn't even mine over my damned head!"

"Oh yeah? You tell her about us?" He glowered but didn't respond. "Oh right, because you two have such a fucking honest relationship." I could feel myself shaking, heartbeat pulsing through my neck. "You have fun basing your relationship off of the trust of a woman who cheats on you like it's as simple as changing her dirty lingerie, and have fun being that wonderful father and husband when you're being miserable faking your whole damn life." I shrugged off his grasp and jumped to the ground, steadying myself.

I made it into his house with the spare key before I could hear him behind me, angrily shaking off his jacket and shoes. I stumbled over to the couch, running my hand across my head, again- again- and then running to the bathroom and gracelessly emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Not just once, but twice, and as I tried remembering what all I had ate, I puked again. I vaguely heard Blaine start the shower, watched him fumble around for an extra toothbrush and towel. I flushed the remnants of my dignity and wiped my face with a warm washcloth he had laid out.

My whole body was aching with heat, and I could feel cold sweat running down my back. A good reminder as to why I stayed a virgin to drinking.

"Here," Blaine motioned for me to walk closer to me, "arms up." it wasn't a demand or a request, but I found myself pulling my arms above my head. His hands slipped under the hem of my shirt, unnecessarily so as he lifted it, giving it a slight tug as it found purpose on the floor. I felt sloppy and gross, leaning my head against the wall as he crouched down.

"What are you- gah." I covered my mouth, closing my eyes again.

"Do you need me to turn off the light? Is it making you sick?" I shook my head in protest, it wasn't making me feel great, but my fear of the dark overcame the fear of vomit. I felt his finger tap the side of my foot, I lifted it and he removed my socks, the left before the right. His fingers slid up my leg, then my thigh- before pulling at the clasp on my pants. That's all they needed to slide from my hips, they weren't very tight. He stood up, handing me the toothbrush and some strangely tubed toothpaste.

"I'm sure you can figure the rest out." He mumbled, uncomfortably. I could understand why, seeing as how 'the rest' referred to the dinky grey boxers I was left in. I nodded dumbly.

"…Thanks."

He pulled the door to as he left, leaving it open a crack.

"You know, Kurt. I'm sorry for what I did- but I expected you, out of everyone- to understand why I was going through with this."

I pushed the door to a complete close, folding my clothes and placing them on the sink.

"I'd be the last person to understand." I whispered.

As I awoke in the middle of the night, I dejectedly grasped that even though my original plan had been to avoid thinking about Blaine, crying myself to sleep, and eating copious amounts of ice-cream, I'd managed to do everything besides indulge in a frozen dairy dessert. I sighed, running the back of my hand across my forehead and rolling around on the couch, facing the TV. I pulled my feet out, lazily standing and scratching my belly. My whole body was covered in Blaine's scent, from the toothpaste, to the soap, to the shampoo- I blinked, frustrated.

I wanted to run home, to take off Blaine's stupid shirt he'd lent me to sleep in- to wash off his smell. I even considered the distance that I'd have to cross to get there. I ran my hand over the oddly placed brown gate between the living room and kitchen, swept my foot over the uneven floor in the dining room. I stared at his fridge, that was all but blank with pictures of his old private school friends. He wasn't smiling in any of them. Or at least, not the way he smiled around me.

It was strange, to look at a refrigerator that wasn't adorned with old drawings or magnets holding pictures of family photos. There wasn't anything to make it look like it belonged to a boy who had freshly hit the tender age of 18. It looked like it was Blaine's; strong, steady, selfless Blaine, who refused to be himself, he refused to let himself be young- he refused to sacrifice what was right for what he wanted.

I imagined the pictures filling is fridge to become Anna, Blaine, and whoever's baby that was nestled in her stomach. It made me cringe, made my eyes water- but I had no idea what effect it was having on Blaine. I had blatantly told him what I thought his life would be like if he went through with this, and it was probably a brutal realization to him- that it was exactly what it would be like.

I felt guilt settle in my stomach, replacing the earlier feel of alcohol and anger. Before I knew it I was traveling down the slim hallway, admiring his evident over-attention to detail when cleaning. There wasn't any skids on the wall, no dust on the wood floor, he'd even republished a few dips in it. I ran my hand along the wall, until it hit the indentation of his door. He always closed it when he slept, complained about noise and drafts and conspiracy theories on break-ins. _A good reason for me to sleep on the couch. _I added in my head, sarcastic and halfheartedly.

I twisted the cool metal of the knob, slowly, pursing my lips as if it would stop me from emitting any noise. The door didn't pull a horror film creak, it just slid open, and I slid in. I noticed that the lamp beside his bed was on, so I pulled the door to behind me.

He was curled into himself, back facing me, breath slow and labored. From here he looked like a kid, like a sad, lonely child. I sighed, running my palms against the borrowed pajamas on my legs, effectively ridding them of sweat. I moved to his side of the bed, my body casting shadows across his face. His pillow was stained with damp spots, I felt my heart sink. One hand dangled from the bed, under it a photo frame. I slipped to my knees, pulling it up.

It was a raven haired woman, with a barely there smile that didn't reach her eyes. She looked ghost-like and stiff, the boy in her arms tugging at a wave in his hair. I saw Blaine's father in the background, on the couch- his wrinkles gone and hair thick. Beside him sat an older boy, raven haired and glass-eyed, which I assumed to be the brother Blaine knew when he was younger. He never said anything more about him, besides the fact that he had taken the Anderson name and done something with it, became what he was expected to be. They looked estranged, even together. I felt my stomach turn, observing how screwed his family dynamic seemed to be.

I brushed the dust off of Blaine's mothers frozen face, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. She was nothing short of beautiful. I pulled the stand from the frame, setting it on Blaine's nightstand carefully, still absorbed. I felt his hand brush against mine and I turned to look over my shoulder, light hitting his face as he wrapped his fingers around my wrist- slowly- purposefully. I saw him biting back tears, craning his neck backwards to keep them from falling. He tugged my wrist, wordlessly.

"Please… I know things are shit." He rasped, sleep and sorrow melding on his tongue. "I know that I've been selfish and-" I shook my head,

"You're struggling. I understand. What kind of friend- Who would I be if I couldn't understand that you're hurt?" I mumbled, mostly questioning myself, waiting for my brain to give me an all-knowing response. "I was just drunk, and angry, and maybe being a little selfish as well." I finished, slouching in shame.

He patted the mattress next to him, his lips twitching with a hint of a smile. I sat, close to the edge of the bed, before scooting back and pulling my knees under my chin.

"We all want to be selfish once in a while." He sighed, wiping his eyes and sitting up to flip his pillow. "Can I ask you something? I have no intentions behind it." He looked desperate. I nodded, chin bumping into my pants legs, still watching his family portrait.

"Will you stay in here with me tonight?" He whispered, and I knew it was an innocent gesture by his tone. I left the bed, and watched his face drop, before I lifted his navy-blue sheets and crawled in next to him.

"Yeah…" I pulled the pillow into a ball under my cheek. "Yeah, I will." he kept his back to me, pulling at the lamp string. It died out slow, strangely, I could see the black between the yellow as the light left it. "Will you tell me something?"

He stirred before replying. "Like what?"

"Something about your mom." I should've felt uncomfortable, nosey for asking. I was just genuinely curious.

He took a breath, I could see the silhouette of his finger brush across the picture on the nightstand. "She had a strange obsession with sweaters, used sour cream when she made cakes," I felt my cheeks heat, eyes widening, "loved broadway-" I felt his laugh but didn't hear it. "She was witty-" He trailed off. "You two together would've probably killed me." He added with a joke.

"She sounds beautiful."

"…What about yours? What was your mom like?" He seemed to hesitate- afraid to ask.

"I knew she was beautiful." I tried to think of what she was like, all I had been left with were happy memories of her. She was a great mom, and when she had passed away it had only brought me and my dad closer. When he remarried, I was nothing but happy for him- and it felt like my mom would've been to. "She made meals her first priority- tried to keep Dad healthy. She didn't work, she said being a mom was a full time occupation." He smiled at that, probably because his mom had been a full-time business woman. "She liked the color blue, and I hated it. She painted my room blue once, when I was away at choir camp. I came home and I was devastated." I grinned.

"I thought you liked blue?" He asked, interested, turning to face me.

"I do now… but I used to hate it. I used to like purple." He snorted, obviously out of my new disdain for the color.

"Why did you like purple?"

"Because we made a chart at camp with our favorite colors,' I felt heat rise to my cheeks, embarrassed. "No one chose purple. I felt bad for it." I heard him snort, but before I was offended I saw his eyes glitter in amusement.

"That's very much like you." He laughed,

"What was your favorite color?" The mundane questions we were asking, seemed to bring out very significant answers. I'd never talked to Blaine about his family. Only heard of them.

"Green. My house was full of grays, blues, and white. Our nanny's plants were the only thing that ever looked natural. The only thing that made it feel like a home." He smirked, laying his head into his crossed arms.

"Do you still like green?" I wondered absently.

"No." His smile grew. "I like blue."

I smiled back, mimicking him, placing my head in my arms as well. I felt sleep tug my eyes. I saw the glitter in Blaine's disappear. I think it was the first time he fell asleep before me. I didn't dream.

I awoke when the door slamming echoed off the walls. I struggled to open my eyes, only doing so when the bed shifted.

"**And what the fuck is this?"** I sat up straight, quickly, fumbling over the sheets and nearly falling to the floor. Blaine was up as quick as I was, his palms dragging across his eyes. "I didn't see your car here last night, called Sam." She hissed. "Funny thing was, he said that you went and picked up Kurt from a party."

"He couldn't be there alone Anna, he's sixteen- he wasn't in a good envir-"

"Shut up, just shut up." She screeched, her skin was pale and marked with sweat. Something unfamiliar in her line of perfection. "Did you have to pick him up drunk?" She grabbed a book off the nightstand, hurling it in Blaine's direction. He dodged it, bewildered. "So he'd crawl into bed with you?" Her jealously seethed through her voice.

"It's not even like that- we talked about this. I'm going to be here for you and our baby." Blaine's voice sounded flat, distant.

"**OUR baby. Our baby, oh I forgot. The only reason you're still fucking here." **Her tears were falling freely, dragging her makeup down her cheeks. Blaine scrambled to his feet, gracefully as ever, and walked around the edge of the bed. I tried to stand as well, before she raged up- shoving me back onto the bed. "Don't you dare move, you little piece of trash." She ground out. I watched as Blaine's temper flared, his fists coming to his sides.

"Anna, he has nothing to do with this. He's fully aware of what's going-"

"**Fuck you, **Blaine. I'm not competing with a child. With a **boy." **She sounded humiliated. She sounded angry, sad, everything in-between. Like a little girl who hadn't gotten her birthday wish. Like she always sounded. "**This-" **she motioned the three of us with her outspread arms. "**This is over. I'm done with all of this." **She swung open the door. "Put my shit in a duffel bag and leave it on the porch."

"Anna," Blaine yelled, darting after her, grabbing her wrist multiple times as she refused to look at him, kept shrugging away from his touch. "You can't do this. You can't, I have to be there for the baby- you know I do-"

"_What baby?"_ She whispered, hoarsely. I watched everything sink from her eyes, they were hollow. "_It's gone."_

_ "_What do you **mean **it's **gone?" **Blaine ground out, I could hear the agony in his voice.

"I didn't want my life to be over." She shook her head, seeking sympathy in his eyes, "I can't let my life be over because of some mistake-" She kept shaking her head, pulling at her sweatshirt and pants. "I wasn't at Santana's yesterday." She mumbled, her voice dead. "I had an appointment."

I watched Blaine's horrified eyes narrow, his jaw clenching and adam's apple bobbing, I saw the tears welling up in his eyes.

"**GET OUT." **He bellowed, shoving her back. Ignoring the pain she was physically in. He shoved her again. Lifting and settling his arms, past the point of rage. "**Get your fucking selfish ass out of my house." **

When she was gone, he sunk to his knees- sobbing gracelessly, writhing, angry,

"B-Blaine-" My voice was disorientated, almost didn't sound like my own.

"Leave, Kurt. Just please,' he slammed his fist into the ground wiping his face on his shoulder, "leave."

_Please review! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!_


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